ladybird blue
by NegativeGravity
Summary: Shigeo returns Teruki's clothes. — set between S1 E12 and S2 E01; canon-compliant.


**title:** ladybird blue  
**summary:** Shigeo returns Teruki's clothes. — set between S1 E12 and S2 E01; canon-compliant.  
**raw word count:** 684  
**notes:** cross-upload from my AO3 account. part three of three in a series of "in-between" vignettes.

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"You didn't have to iron them, you know," Teruki says, thoroughly amused. "Or press the shirt's collar, for that matter."

Shigeo shuffles his feet, shying a little. "Mom said that it's the proper thing to do when someone lends you their clothes. I don't really get it, but I think that she's right." Then, quieter, more to himself than to his friend: "Though I do think that the pressing is a little...unnecessary."

"Ah, well. It's not like I'm complaining. Come on in!"

"Pardon the intrusion."

Watching him take off his shoes and place them neatly off to the side has Teruki thinking, _You really are __e__very mother-in-law's dream, aren't you._ He shakes himself out of the thought, smiling a little. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Um. Do you have any milk? If-if not, then plain water will do. I, ah...don't want to inconvenience you."

_He's so cute._ Teruki resists the urge to muss up his hair, only barely. "If it was an inconvenience, then I wouldn't have asked you. Now come on, sit down somewhere. Make yourself comfortable."

Shigeo does as instructed, perching tentatively on the kitschy, yolk-orange couch. Teruki's apartment is a homely mess of colors, yet incredibly neat otherwise — especially for a boy of fourteen that lives on his own. He sinks into the cushions without noticing, lost a little in the trawl of his thoughts:_ What do his parents do for a living, anyway? And what are they like? I can't really imagine mom and dad letting me live on my own, even if me being there meant they'd be in danger…_But maybe Teruki himself had insisted, he realizes; _I know I would._

But would he, really? Though the Seventh Division of Claw had been all but decimated, there was no guarantee that other operatives wouldn't follow in their footsteps. _A 'seventh division' implies the existence of others, after all…And they were saying something about the 'boss' coming back, weren't they?_

"—Mob? Mob."

"Hm?" He flushes, snapping to attention. "Sorry, I was. Thinking. About something..."

Teruki smiles, a little too tight. "Claw, huh."

"Mm."

Plates and cutlery are set down in short order, each accompanied by its own soft _clink_. Not only had Teruki brought out milk — and a glass of pear juice, this for himself — but he had also procured chocolate cake from somewhere in the bowels of his retrotech fridge. "They'll be back," he says, matter-of-factly, and takes a seat at the other end of the couch, one leg tucked under himself, foot hooked firmly under the opposite knee.

Shigeo stares at his slice; it'd be rude to refuse. "Yeah." The return of Claw is a question of _when_, not a question of _if_. He pauses, fingers pressing down into the tops of his thighs. "I think I'm scared."

The fork cuts into the cake without a hand there to hold it. Teruki watches him, a thoughtful expression crayoning his features. "Of?"

"Them. Them hurting Ritsu. Or mom and dad. Or...or Master Reigen." He bites into the cake, chews through a frown. Forces his hands to relax. "The cake's really good, Teru."

"Really? I thought it wasn't sweet enough," Teruki says, taking a mouthful of his own slice as though to reappraise its taste. "But then, it _is_ dark chocolate."

"I don't like sweet things, much."

"Ah."

They eat in silence, for a while. Then: "Sorry to dump my anxieties on you like this," Shigeo says, breathing a soft sigh out through his nose. "And so suddenly, too."

"It's fine," Teruki says, cheery as summer; his new haircut suits him, Shigeo observes. Perhaps a little _too_ well. He flushes again. "It's what friends are for," Teruki continues, politely oblivious to the quick succession of changes in his expression. "And besides, I'm worried, too."

"For your parents?"

"For you."

"Ah." The condensation slides off their glasses and onto the plain red coasters underneath them, leaving behind large, accusing tear-marks in a deeper shade of blood. Shigeo tries to think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind.

Teruki takes his hand. "Hey. We'll be alright. Alright?"

"…Alright."

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_**fin.**_


End file.
